


Not Heaven

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Footnotes, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-09
Updated: 2011-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-24 10:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you can find a way around The Rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Heaven

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheDarkMaterial](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkMaterial/gifts).



It was decidedly not like Heaven, regardless what most of the humans living around them would think. Aziraphale had been to heaven, spent rather too much time there, unfortunately. The problem with most of His Side was that they hadn't quite figured out the essential quality of adversity in making one truly appreciate happiness; In heaven an artist could paint a picture and be assured that it would turn out perfectly, a figure skater would always land his quadruple toe. In reality, Heaven was only heaven in very small doses.[1]

Adversity was the key to all things. Laying stretched out on a down filled comforter on his stomach completely naked while having a very attractive naked demon straddle his hips and stroke his fingers over his wings, for instance, would not have been nearly so enjoyable had he not felt the tiniest bit guilty for giving in to this sinful indulgence. What would follow after, well... they'd come to a mutual understanding about that some time ago. Giving in to a demon's temptation was balanced out by the triumph of said demon indulging in goodness for a time, and as such neither of them really needed to include these dalliances in their reports.

"There," he breathed, a shiver of arousal running through him as Crowley's fingers slipped between his feathers to caress a spot that he could never manage to reach himself, teasing the sensitive skin underneath as he straightened his feathers. He gave a soft moan as Crowley repeated the motion, giving a little appreciative hum.

"I thought your side didn't approve of hedonism," he remarked, still stroking, smoothing feathers into place.

"Haven't the foggiest where you got that idea," Aziraphale replied, eyes still closed in pleasure. "We would have made it the eighth deadly sin if there was need. The Puritans were your lot."

"The Puritans were not our lot," Crowley replied with a frown. "Though we did try. Boring stiffs, the lot of them. Wouldn't have known the pleasure of wickedness if it had bit them in the arse."

Aziraphale gave a little agreeable hum, feeling far too good to argue. He and Crowley had long ago reached the realization that humans often and completely unwittingly formed their own side, a mix of goodness and wickedness that was the result of their own imagination and not the meddling of higher beings at all[2]. It was easy enough for them to end most disagreements with lumping the individuals in question into "the human side", especially when neither of them particularly wanted to take credit for something like the Westboro Baptist church. "Well, regardless of that, hard work and righteousness deserves its own reward, in moderation."

"So I'm a reward, am I?" There was something undeniably smug in Crowley's voice, mixed with a deliciously evil kind of promise that made a very specific kind of pleasure shiver down Aziraphale's spine. He let out a soft breath as Crowley leaned down to nuzzle the back of his neck, tongue flicking teasingly against his skin. "Something every good little angel dreams of?"

"Just one angel," Aziraphale breathed, resisting the urge to squirm underneath him. "Better be just one angel."

"Just one," Crowley agreed, mouthing kisses up his neck and placing a teasing nip to his earlobe, sucking on it gently to soothe. "Worshiping any more goodness than this would most certainly leave me in hot water with my side." He pressed closer, chest against the Angel's back as he licked along the curve of his ear, breath warm on his skin and his erection firm and hot against Aziraphale's ass. "But I'll reward my one angel as often as he likes."

"Oh G.... Crowley, teasing is not a reward." He whimpered as Crowley pulled away, sitting up to stroke his fingers down Aziraphale's spine and between his firm ass cheeks, stroking over his opening.

"But I thought patience was a virtue?" Crowley nabbed the lube, the creation of which they had both reluctantly conceded to the Human Side[3], slicking his fingers and easing one into his body, rocking it into him slowly, crooking his finger to tease him just how he knew his angel liked it, making him gasp and buck underneath him.

"It is," Aziraphale groaned, trying to arch up under him as a second finger joined the first. "And so is mercy, which is the only reason why I haven't put you over my knee for being such an incorrigible tease, you wicked little demon."

Crowley gave an appreciative little hum, still fucking him slowly with his fingers. "Love it when you talk dirty."

"Crowley...." Aziraphale's moan came out far more helpless and wanton than he'd ever let show outside of the bedroom, but it was worth it for the soft curse Crowley gave, pulling his fingers away to slick his cock. As he started to press into him, thick and hard and undeniably perfect, Aziraphale found himself thankful that patience was a virtue that Crowley's kind definitely did not subscribe to. He arched back against Crowley as much as he could, relishing in the stretch of his body around the shaft of Crowley's cock as he rocked deeper, the spidery mix of discomfort and pleasure that crawled up his spine as his body adjusted to the intrusion. He loved it when they started like this, Crowley straddling his thighs, making their fit so much tighter, so much more intense. He eased deeper into Aziraphale's body with slow rocks of his hips, leaning over to nuzzle the base of his wings, press warm, wet kisses to his lover's bare skin.

"So good," Aziraphale gasped, whimpering at the tease of Crowley's teeth at the crook of his neck. "More. Oh g - please more."

"Going to make you say it one of these days," Crowley murmured, giving a harder thrust and groaning at the gasp it drove from Aziraphale's throat. "Going to make you completely forget everything but my cock in your ass, angel."

Aziraphale could only moan in reply, trying to rock up against him more, his own erection pressed hard into the smooth fabric of the comforter underneath him. He was perfectly happy to let Crowley take control in these moments most of the time[4]; this was, after all, about him giving into temptation so that Crowley could properly indulge in goodness. He whimpered complaint when Crowley pulled away, but it was only to urge Aziraphale's thighs apart and press between them, letting their bodies come together more completely, the head of his cock rubbing inside him just so, sending the most heavenly shocks of pleasure up his spine.

"My angel," Crowley hissed, giving a harder thrust, groaning at the cry it drove from Aziraphale's lips. "Mine. Always." And Aziraphale heard what went unspoken, the bond between them that had given them strength to stand against the combined hosts of both of their sides as the ends of days threatened. To stand against the event that threatened to keep them from each other forever.

Definitely not Heaven, Aziraphale thought in his last lucid moment before his body was driven over the edge of pleasure, crying out as orgasm shuddered through him. This was far better than that.

~~~~

[1] For arguments sake, because he was, after all, still on Heaven's Side, Hell had the same problem - eternal torment becomes rather dull when you cannot remember a happy moment to contrast it with. Aziraphale had thought about suggesting an exchange program to liven things up, but Crowley had rather wisely reminded him that good ideas from angels and demons are almost always regarded as either inspiration from the Other Side or temporary madness, both of which resulted in mandatory counseling. No one knew whose side the psychiatrists were on. [ return ]

[2] For instance, contrary to popular belief, most Rock and Roll bands are not in Hell. Or Heaven. Both sides have been locked in a centuries long stalemate over it that shows no sign of resolution. In the meantime, bands chill in kind of limbo that has become the best and worst of all rock concerts - playing great music until you drop and drinking until you vomit so hard that the blood vessels in your eyeballs burst argumentatively do include equal elements of Heaven and Hell. Crowley had thought about suggesting some kind of timeshare option. Aziraphale had gently reminded him of the psychiatrists.  [ return ]

[3] Like most sex toys, really. Because every time Aziraphale tried to argue that spice and variety enriched the sacred bonds of matrimony, Crowley responded by doing that thing with his tongue. [ return ]

[4] Except for when Crowley well and truly deserved a good spanking. Spankings were unarguably made more effective when followed by a very thorough fucking, and Aziraphale was all too willing to administer both. For the demon's own good, of course. It had nothing to do with Crowley's infuriatingly sexy "Come hither" look or how nice his ass was. [ return ]


End file.
